Chapter Three
Three days later, Adam woke from a nightmare. Blood and death lingered on his soul in the brutal memories that tortured him when he slept. In the dream, he’d been coated in the blood of his dead friends and couldn’t get it off. Nothing he did got the blood off. Then he looked up, and saw the bloated body of his brother glaring at him, demanding to know when he’d stop letting friends and family die.
Adam tried to explain that he was doing the job of a patriot, just as Brady had wanted to do. But his throat locked up, while his skin itched and burned from the drying blood. Then he opened his eyes.
Lying in the darkness, he fought to get his ragged breathing under control. Then he heard a horrible wrenching sound, followed by a whimper, and realized what had woken him. He turned on the bedside lamp. The dog—he’d named her Ellie—slept on the big quilt he’d put on the floor a few feet from the bed.
“Damn.” He got up and crouched by the dog. Ellie was lying on her right side, her rib cage heaving. She’d thrown up. She whimpered again and looked at him with wide, panicked eyes. He stroked her head. “It’s okay, girl,” he said softly while examining her stitches. They were red, angry, and draining pus. He’d seen enough wounds to know this was a sign of a serious infection.
How had he missed that she was sick? Hurting? No time to think about that now. He lifted the dog up and laid her on his bed. He yanked his cell phone off its charger and called Megan’s office. He got a voice mail menu that told him if this was a true emergency, press zero. He did, and there was a click before a phone began to ring.
“Dr. Young speaking.”
“Megan, it’s Adam. I have a problem.”
“It’s one in the morning.”
Her voice was thick with sleep. Adam knew what she looked like, all warm and—
The dog cried out.
Adam focused. “It’s Ellie, the Labrador you stitched up the other day. She’s sick. Infection, I think. She vomited, and the stitches are inflamed and weeping. She’s in pain.”
“Meet me at the clinic.” She hung up.
Adam finished dressing and Ellie watched him with her soft brown eyes. Guilt lanced through him. Quickly, he gathered up everything he needed, including a blanket to cover his truck seat in case Ellie got sick again, and he raced to the clinic.
Breaking the speed limit only meant he ended up waiting for fifteen minutes before Megan arrived. He spent the time petting Ellie and feeling her for fever, even though he wasn’t sure how warm a dog’s skin was supposed to feel. When he saw Meg’s car pull in, he wrapped his shivering dog in the blanket and followed Megan to the door.
She wore a pair of black sweatpants that did nothing to hide the sweet curve of her behind. Her zip-up sweatshirt covered the rest of her, and her long red hair was in a ponytail. She held the door open and he carried Ellie inside. He waited for Meg to turn on the lights. They hurried to the treatment room. He put Ellie on the stainless steel table while Megan washed her hands. “When did you notice she was sick?”
Guilt tightened his neck. He looked down at the dog. “Not until I heard her vomit tonight.”
Megan said nothing as she pulled on gloves and walked over to the table. She began examining Ellie, including taking her temperature.
The dog didn’t resist at all. She just lay there, as if she didn’t have the energy or will to protest. Adam felt another prick of remorse for the dog’s suffering. And this was even more reason for Megan to think badly of him. “I’ve been taking her with me when I can, keeping an eye on her. Tonight she didn’t eat, but I thought she was just tired so I didn’t think much of it.”
He felt the rough, wet swipe of the dog’s tongue.
Ellie pressed her nose into his hand, trying to comfort him. She was suffering, yet she licked him. “The truth is that I didn’t pay attention like I should have.” He rubbed her soft ears.
“She has a pretty nasty infection, but it’s not your fault, Adam. She’s thin, undernourished, and has probably been on the streets for a while. Her body isn’t in prime condition to fight an infection. Plus, dogs often hide their pain and distress. She was probably just grateful to have food, a little kindness, and a decent place to sleep.” As Megan talked, she set up an IV drip. Then she gently grasped a roll of skin on the dog’s back by her shoulder and inserted the needle.
“What do we do?” Adam asked. “How do we help her?”
Megan’s eyes glinted with determination. She reached up to the I.V. set-lock and switched it to release the flow of fluid. “I’m going to try to save her. I have to clean the wound, pump her full of antibiotics, and wait and see if she can rally and fight to live. I’ve got it all taken care of. You don’t have to stay.”
People had hurt this dog, yet she licked his hand instead of biting him. He’d seen so much cruelty, so much horror of what humans could do to one another, that this dog’s innate kindness tripped something inside of him. But moreover, the flush of determination on Megan’s face touched him.
“I’m not leaving you alone in this clinic in the middle of the night. I’m staying with Ellie and you.”
Megan nodded, unzipping her sweatshirt and pulling it off, leaving her in a green tank top that revealed her long, toned arms and the outline of her breasts.
No bra.
The room grew hot. Her breasts were a bit fuller than he remembered. And he remembered them often. When on missions in hellish terrains like Afghanistan, he often thought of Meg as a way to keep his sanity. He’d recall the feel of her hair, the scent of her skin, the softness of her breasts… The way she’d been there when his folks died. She’d helped him with the arrangements, and when it was all done, when he had been just…raw, she’d given him her body. He would never forget the feeling of sliding into her warmth, looking down into her face, and feeling a sense of peace. But that feeling had scared the hell out of him, because he knew that peace was only fleeting.
“I’m going to sedate her,” Meg said. “She’s too weak to handle the pain. Hold her head and talk to her.”
Adam leaned down to look into Ellie’s eyes. “Good girl. Just go to sleep, Ellie. You’ll feel better when you wake up.” He kept talking to the animal as he listened to Megan move around. In a few minutes, Ellie’s eyes drifted shut.
For well over an hour, he followed directions as Megan cut the stitches, cleaned out the wound, and worked tirelessly to save the dog. It was surprisingly bloody work. She had to expand the wound to scrape out the infected flesh. Adam breathed deeply to forget, but despite his efforts, he remembered the horrifying bloody scene when they had extracted two of their captured men, Trace and Cooper. Only one of them came out alive. Just barely alive. Dragging his thoughts from that memory, his admiration for Megan rose with each of her calm, methodical movements. Had he known she was this strong?
Then they had to wait. He found the break room and put a pot of coffee on. Five minutes later, he carried two steaming mugs into the treatment room. Meg was sitting on the floor by the kennel where they’d moved Ellie.
Megan looked up as he walked in. “Her fever’s gone down some.”
He handed her one of the cups and sat next to her. “That’s a good sign, right?”
“It’s probably from hydrating her, but yeah, it’s a good sign.” She sat up, stretched her back, and rolled her head, clearly trying to loosen the tight muscles in her neck and shoulders.
Adam frowned, realizing that she probably hadn’t had more than a couple of hours’ sleep. It was around three a.m. now. He set his cup on the floor, settled behind her, and placed his hands on her shoulders.
She flinched. “What are you doing?”
“Rubbing your shoulders. Relax, Megan. I’m just thanking you for saving my dog.” He began kneading, feeling her velvety soft skin over knotted muscles. He worked her upper arms and shoulders, then moved to her neck and the space between her shoulder blades. Using his thumbs, he stroked up and down, pressing and rubbing.
She bent her head forward and groaned.
“Feel good?”
“Mm.”
That sounded like a sexy purr, vibrating right through him and straight to his groin. Her sweet pear scent filled his lungs and made him long to taste her. The pale skin of her shoulders and arms had just a hint of sun-kissed color and a light dusting of freckles. He resisted the temptation to brush his lips over the nape of her neck. Instead he said, “Thank you, Meg. I know I dragged you out of bed, and you won’t get much more sleep tonight.”
“I’d do it for any of my patients, Adam.”
It stung as he realized that he wanted to be more special to her. He shifted, stretching his legs out on either side of her. Then he leaned against the table and tugged her back to his chest. Before she could protest, he said, “See if you can sleep. I’ll keep an eye on Ellie and wake you if she needs anything.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “This isn’t a good idea.”
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “You’ve slept in my arms before.”
“That was a long time ago, Adam. Another lifetime.”
He stared at her, couldn’t look away. For a second, he wished things could be different, that they could build a life together, but Adam knew better and locked down that desire. That was how he functioned. He would not burden another with his private hell. He would never be able to bear her looking at him with the same hatred or disgust as his own mother had.
Adam forced a gentleness over his rough emotions. “I just intend to hold you so you can sleep.”
She twisted around so she could see him and let her eyes roam over his face, as if she were trying to see into his very soul. “What about you? Aren’t you tired? You could go home and I’ll call you when she’s out of danger.”
“I don’t sleep much.” He never talked about his nightmares and insomnia to anyone. Recovering, he added another reason. “And there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you here alone.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “I’m here alone at least once a month dealing with an emergency. Actually, I usually bring Max. He’s pretty good protection.”
“Smart.” He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the feel of her against him. “But you didn’t bring him tonight. You knew you’d be safe with me.” He liked that. A lot.
She put her hand on his arm. “Why don’t you sleep, Adam?”
He had a big mouth. What was it about Megan that reached through his defenses? “All the travel in the military has messed up my sleep patterns.”
She was silent, rubbing her thumb back and forth on his wrist. “You wanted to travel, wanted to be a hero. Did it turn out the way you thought?”
Caught by surprise, he leaned his head back and thought about it. “I wanted to make more of a difference, but no matter what my team achieved, it was never enough. If we eliminated one threat, six more took its place.” And good men died horrible deaths.
He stared up at the ceiling, feeling the desolation and loneliness wash over him. No, it hadn’t turned out the way he wanted. Brady was still dead, and his parents had died without forgiving him.
“What do you want now?”
He looked down at her. “In my life? To build the most successful security agency possible. My men will never lack tools or resources to get the job done.” He had money and talent; he just needed the right connections.
“But right now?” He put his hand beneath her chin and told her the truth. “I want to see if you taste as good as I remember.”
He leaned in to kiss her.